


Outline of the Stars

by spss



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Calamity Ganon, Sharing a Bed, Teen and Up Just in Case, but I can't write anything super angsty I'd die, but they can help each other along the way, kind of? idk if I'm funny, she's so good and I love her, they both have things they need to work out, zelda is crushing hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 14:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spss/pseuds/spss
Summary: She supposed she didn’t have to attempt to sleep tonight. She was glad. Exhausted, but glad nonetheless. She didn’t have to deal with memories of Ganon tonight, or the loneliness. The darkness. She would watch over Link instead....Zelda has trouble sleeping. Link has trouble figuring out who he is.





	Outline of the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> OOOOO boy I've never written or posted a fanfiction in my life so we'll see how this goes. Pwease no steppy. I tried my best and am very nervous. But I wrote this in a few days when I could have been doing homework and studying, so I might as well post it... just in case it causes me to flunk out of college at least someone may have found some fun in reading it. Maybe. We'll see.
> 
> There's one part where I mention something emetophobic-y, I put asterisks above and below that part in case you want to skip it! It's nothing super graphic though because I have mild emetophobia myself so I'd die.

It was as if she was experiencing the world brand new again, an infant exposed to the universe outside the womb for the first time.

 As Zelda refilled her canteen with water, she marveled at the coolness of the water, and the way the river drifted and shifted beneath her touch. She pulled her hand back and studied the way her fingers glistened, the rays of the setting sun reflecting off the water droplets that were left behind on her skin. 

The marvel of it captivated her, and she found herself lost in thought, until she heard a loud _BANG_ coming from further down the riverbank. For a moment, she and her surroundings were encased in a glowing blue light.

Zelda screamed. She had been squatting by the river but she lost her balance, shoes slipping in the muck. Her canteen flew from her hand and smacked into the ground beside her.

What she saw when she turned her head towards the source of the noise infuriated her.

“Link!” She pushed herself up off the ground and stormed towards him, ignoring the uncomfortable way her shirt was now stuck to her back with wet sand and mud. “Just _what_ are you doing?”

Link was standing in the water with a circular blue bomb in his hands. Dead fish surrounded him. He stared at her blankly, and blinked, as if he couldn’t glean anything particularly odd about the situation. 

“I’m fishing,” he said.

“You are using the Sheikah slate to throw bombs into the water.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “It works well for fishing. It’s efficient.”

“I told you that you need to stop using the Sheikah slate irresponsibly. It’s an ancient artifact, not a plaything.”

Just days earlier, Zelda had been looking at the photos that Link had taken on the Sheikah slate during his journey after his resurrection. Most of them shocked her in their care and beauty – pictures of wild animals, landscapes, and people Link had met along the way. However, one picture in particular shocked her in a way that which upset her: a picture that Link took of himself, standing in front of a guardian with a laser pointed straight at his head. He held his hand out as if he was cradling the guardian’s… weird _head_ thing… in his palm, and he wore a goofy smile on his face.

Link had covered his mouth and tried to suppress a laugh at the sight of the photo ( _when was the last time she had heard him laugh?)_. Zelda was horrified by it, though.

“How could you do something so reckless?” She asked him, pointing at the Sheikah slate.

He shrugged and gave her a big smile. “It was funny.”

And now, days later, there he was again, goofing off with the Sheikah slate. She held her hand out. “Give it to me.”

He frowned. “But--” 

“When did you decide it was appropriate to talk back to me? You _never_ would have done such a thing before the Calamity.”

Zelda felt a twinge of guilt pierce inside of her. She hadn’t really meant it like that. There were things that she could have said, that maybe would have been a bit more true to her feelings: _I don’t want to see you accidentally blow yourself up! I don’t want to see you hurt yourself, it hurts me to see you hurt, I’m worried about you, I’m worried about you._

Her ego stopped her before she could elaborate, though.

Link handed her the Sheikah slate. He was more expressive than he used to be, and she wasn’t quite accustomed to it, but in this moment she couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling.

Not knowing what he was thinking or feeling… that was something that Zelda had gotten used to, with Link, before the Calamity. She couldn’t say it was something she wished to return to now that the fight with Ganon had ceased. She was a researcher. She wanted to learn, and to _know_ , and she filled her mind with knowledge at every opportunity. Being so uncertain of someone she cared about was frustrating… and almost scary.

Link looked upward at the stars that were beginning to litter the sky. “We should get going. Find a place to camp for the night.”

Zelda clipped the Sheikah slate to her belt. “I agree.” 

Link walked away from the river. Zelda followed.

…

Nights were difficult. Zelda had spent 100 years alone, in an altered state of consciousness. She hadn’t had to worry about eating, drinking, or sleeping. Eating and drinking – these actions came back easily! She had forgotten the pleasure in dousing a parched throat with water. Link was an amazing cook, too, and she found great joy in stuffing her face at every possible opportunity. She justified it by telling herself she was making up for time lost.

Sleeping, though… that was harder. She didn’t like the darkness. It reminded her of Ganon. It made her feel unsafe. It made her feel alone.

Zelda kind of felt _guilty_ about her insomnia. It made her a little cranky. It wasn’t only that, though. She didn’t even _know_ the last time Link had a night’s rest. He insisted on keeping watch over her every night.

That night, she begged him to sleep. “I can keep watch. I can take care of myself,” she told him, her hands on her hips in a (failing) attempt to intimidate him into listening to her. 

“I know you can. But if something were to happen, I’m more proficient with weapons than you are. We don’t know what happened to the Yiga Clan. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were looking for revenge. I don’t want to take any risks.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not convinced of your fighting prowess at the moment, considering you’re so exhausted you fell off your horse earlier.”

“I told you, it was because I saw a frog!”

 “There were no frogs there!” _Was he really that interested in frogs???_

(…Zelda couldn’t blame him if he was).

Link ended up winning the argument. “Hateno Village is just a day’s ride away. I’ll be fine until then. I promise. You’re tired too. Go to sleep.”

Yes, she was tired. So, so tired. She knew it couldn’t be anything close to how he was feeling, but the tossing and turning she engaged in every night didn’t do anything to appease her worry or her exhaustion.

That night she couldn’t sleep again. She only knew hours had passed because of the movement of the stars in the sky. She rolled around on the ground again, adjusting her makeshift blanket. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Link, on the ground leaning against a maple tree. This wasn’t uncommon, he often spent the nights like this, but on this night Zelda noticed that his head had gone limp and rested against his shoulder. He had fallen asleep. Zelda laughed to herself, noting how his chin was stained with a little bit of drool.

She supposed she didn’t have to attempt to sleep tonight. She was glad. Exhausted, but glad nonetheless. She didn’t have to deal with memories of Ganon tonight, or the loneliness. The darkness. She would watch over Link instead. 

…

Link apologized _profusely_ upon waking. He knelt on the ground in front of her, his head down. He hadn’t treated her in such an impersonal, _knightly_ manner since before the Calamity. The “proper” way to act around royalty was among the things he had forgotten. But Zelda didn’t mind that. Though she didn’t always act like it, she preferred to be treated as a person before a princess.

This actually made her really uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry,” Link was continuing, “I promise I didn’t mean to, I—“

“Link!” She called his name loudly, with power, and he finally lifted his head and looked her in the eyes.

“It’s _fine._ ” She couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. She placed a hand on his messy-haired blond head. “I promise, it’s _fine._ It’s what I wanted.”

“But—“

“But _nothing._ When was the last time you slept?”

He paused. “I don’t know. A few days?”

Zelda sighed. “It was _four days._ That’s not normal. You _needed_ to sleep. I’m surprised you weren’t hallucinating.”

*

She was hit by a sudden surge of anger once again. She was just _so_ worried, and so frustrated by his stubbornness. She threw her arms up in the air, completely exasperated. “I would not be surprised if one day you wet yourself because you were too afraid to leave me alone for a moment! Or vomit all over yourself because you felt it too much of a burden to tell me you’re not feeling well…” She put a finger to her chin, contemplating. “Now that I think about it, I recall that happening once, before the Calamity… strange how dehydration can lead to a state that causes _more_ water loss….”

Link turned a concerning shade of white. “Why would you say that to me.” His eyes were dead. “Wh--why… why… why…”

The moment the incident was brought to her mind, she remembered it all clearly. It was after the Yiga clan attempted to assassinate her. She was full of mixed emotions regarding her appointed knight – previous negative feelings had not dissipated, but she was grateful that he had come to her aid despite how she had treated him, and was thoroughly impressed by his combat skills. 

The trail north was swelteringly hot that day. No amount of cold-resistance elixirs could remedy that, but Zelda tried her best to stave off the heat anyway, downing another elixir and plenty of water every ten minutes or so. If they were moving on horseback, it may have been more bearable… but Zelda wasn’t confident enough in her horseback riding skills to traverse Hyrule in that manner.

She kept herself occupied by speaking to herself, about future plans and her ideas for research, until she realized she only heard her own set of footsteps. Link was no longer behind her.

That was… the most _Un-Link_ thing that Link could ever do. He was always, _always_ by her side. He _never_ left her alone. But there he was, about seventy meters back, hunched over himself underneath a shady cliff with his hands wrapped around his stomach.

“Link?” He didn’t respond. She jogged toward him and knelt by his side, in complete shock at the sight of him in such a state. He hadn’t eaten much that day, so there wasn’t much to come up, but still…

He expressed no emotion, but when she saw him wipe his face with his sleeve, she could see that he was trembling. “Ah, Princess, I apologize.” His voice was hoarse.

Zelda still didn’t know him very well, but that didn’t stop her from showing concern and empathy. “Link? What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

 He shook his head. Zelda raised her eyebrows, asking for an elaboration. 

“Not sick.” He gestured towards his throat. “Thirsty. Kind of…” His eyes unfocused. “Kind of… dizzy.”

“You’re thirsty?” She, too, was prone to nausea when dehydrated, but… “Why thirsty? We have water.”

“I ran out.” He started coughing, and didn’t stop for nearly a minute. Zelda felt a prick of a painful, unfamiliar emotion in her chest.

 “I _have_ water. Plenty. You should have told me you ran out. Don’t be idiotic.” She handed him her waterskin. “Here. Drink.”

He gulped down what had to have been at least an entire liter of water before handing the container back to Zelda. And then he smiled. It was the first time she had seen him smile. “Your highness… Princess Zelda… thank you,” he said.

*

Zelda snapped out of her sudden shift into her past. She shook her head, both shaking away the flashback and expressing her displeasure for Link’s continuous stubborn spirit. “Come, let’s leave. I let you sleep in a bit late, and we still want to make it to Hateno Village before nightfall.”

The ride was quieter than what Zelda had become used to. She had always been talkative – that never changed – but Link had too learned to vocalize over the past 100 years, Zelda learned.

He had told her why it was so hard to speak, 100 years ago, before his death. It was the pressure. The fear of saying something wrong.

He talked more now, but was that the result of decreased stress levels, the loss of his memories, or was it simply the result of the prolonged periods of time he spent wandering the wilderness alone after his awakening? From the castle, a part of her could see him. Zelda could see that he spent days upon days alone, with no company save the monsters that were always doing him harm. 

She turned her gaze to him as they traveled the road on horseback. He stared off into the distance, brooding. Quiet. 

Zelda remembered their conversation from that morning. The apologizing. _When had he become so insecure?_ She wondered. Before the Calamity, despite his fear of speaking, he had always seemed so sure of himself. He always seemed to have everything in his life together. He got the master sword long before Zelda was able to summon her power to confront Ganon. Zelda was learning to forgive herself for taking too, too, too, long to grasp her power (key word: _learning_ ), but she still didn’t understand how Link could have anything to feel bad about.

Zelda chewed the inside of her cheek until it was nothing but a bloody mess inside, and the taste of iron lingered in her mouth for a nauseating amount of time.

When they reached Hateno Village, Link turned his horse and led her up a hill in the opposite direction of where she had assumed they were going. 

“Um, Link? Isn’t the inn the other way?” 

“Yes.” He looked over his shoulder and grinned at her. “Just follow me. I have something to show you.”

Across a bridge on top of the hill stood a little house, with ivy covering the walls and a small pond to the right of it. And, once she was close enough to read, Zelda saw a sign that said “Link’s house” outside the front.

Her jaw dropped. “You have a _house?_ ”

“Yes.”

“Since when, exactly, do you own a _house?_ ”

“It was on sale.”

_That didn’t answer the question…_

He hopped off of his horse and led her over to the small stable beside the house. Once she and Zelda’s horse were secured (and fed a fair share of apples for their hard work), Link said “Here! Let me show you inside!”

Link showed her a dining table, a bed, a desk, and… a memorial of sorts. He had mounted the weapons of the late champions to his wall. Zelda and Link both didn’t say a word as she went up to each weapon individually, resting her fingertips upon each wooden plank the weapons were attached to.

Night came sooner than Zelda would have liked. Link cooked something delicious for dinner, of course, but afterwards, when the moon rose high in the sky, any feelings of comfort that she gained from the pleasant meal faded away. Her anxiety rose as the moon did.

They sat outside, underneath an apple tree. Link had climbed up it and taken some of the apples, and was busy munching on all of them. How he had the stomach for that after their huge supper, Zelda had no idea, but he seemed happy, so she decided not to question it.

He pointed to a constellation in the sky. “I don’t remember the names of the stars, or their formations. Can you teach me?”

Zelda had taught him before. She had overloaded him with information on the stars before the Calamity. She remembered a clear night like this one, in which she mapped out all of the constellations and their names, and quizzed Link on them until he had them memorized. Some nights after that, she would randomly point one out to him to make sure he could still recall its name, and he would always give the right answer in a reserved and soft voice.

Zelda remembered this. Link did not.

She only told him the names of a couple (the harp of the goddess was her favorite), before she was interrupted by a very large yawn. She rubbed her bloodshot, tired eyes.

“You should sleep,” Link said. “I have a bed upstairs. You can sleep there.”

Zelda squinted at him. “Then where will you sleep?”

Link shrugged. “There’s a rug downstairs.”

Zelda squinted harder. “That sounds uncomfortable.”

Link squinted back at her. “We’ve been sleeping on the ground, and, like, rocks, for the past four days.”

Zelda crossed her arms over her chest. “But it’s _your_ house.”

“And you’re my house guest.”

A sudden, embarrassing thought crossed her mind. _Two people could probably fit in that bed._ And, maybe the presence of another person beside her would help her sleep…?

She tried to push the desire away, but once the idea hit her, it was implanted in some little stupid corner of her mind and would not go away for the life of her. She didn’t want to sleep alone; she didn’t want to _be_ alone.

She just had to figure out the best way to swallow her pride and ask him.

Zelda often cursed Link for his impulsive nature, but Zelda could only handle this by being impulsive herself. She curled her hands into fists and just spat it out. “I mean, we could always share!” 

Link’s eyes went wide as the dinner plates they had used just a few hours ago. “Share?”

“Yes.” She held her chin high in the air. “I think, given the circumstances, it is the best possible course of action. It just makes sense.” 

Link didn’t look fully convinced, but he nodded slowly. “Makes sense….” He mumbled. 

Zelda didn’t give him any more time to contemplate, lest he change his mind. “I’ll go get ready for sleep now. And you should come after me. I’m tired, and you are too – and _don’t_ lie to me and tell me that you aren’t.”

She ran away from him and back into the house, shutting the door behind her, thoroughly embarrassed but oddly proud of herself for her accomplishment. She quickly changed into a simpler gown, and crawled into the bed, positioning herself on the side closest to the wall.

Her heartbeat pounded in her chest at a rate of one beat per millisecond while she waited for Link to come inside. She feared he might have run off or something, or worse, had been figuring out a way to tell her that he didn’t want to sleep next to her.

But he walked upstairs a few minutes later. “Are you sure about this?” He asked her.

Zelda shuffled in bed, moving closer to the wall and pulling the green blanket up to her chin. “Yes.” _Don’t want to be alone._

“Okay.”

He sat on the bed beside her, on top of the blanket. Then he curled up in a little ball and wiggled as far away from Zelda as possible. 

She frowned. “You can get underneath the covers.”

He paused. “…Okay.”

“Wait, wait.” She placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him before he moved anymore. “Do you not have a change of clothes? You’re covered in dirt!”

He paused. “Nothing really suitable to sleep in.”

“At least put on something clean!"

“Okay.”

Zelda smacked her hands on her face. “And stop saying that!”

“Stop saying what?”

“’Okay!’”

Link ruffled the hair on the back of his head. “Okay… wait, um, err, I mean—“ 

He darted down the stairs before Zelda could say anything in response to that. He came back in what appeared to be… a stylish Rito-themed snowsuit?

Zelda shook her head. “What are you wearing? You’re going to die of heatstroke.”

“I—I’m not going to die of heatstroke…” He rubbed his hand along his sleeve. “It’s fuzzy on the inside. Comfortable.”

“If you say so.” Zelda rolled over and closed her eyes.

… 

Link wasn’t sleeping.

Though his presence calmed her nerves, and she loved having him next to her, his incessant tossing and turning was enough to wake her up at one point in the night.

After a bit of time staring at the wall, unable to fall asleep again, she spoke. 

“Link. What are you thinking about?”

Link went still. “Your highness, why are you awake?”

She sighed. “You don’t have to call me ‘your highness.’ It’s… strange.”

Minutes went by. Zelda was almost under the impression that he had fallen asleep, until he whispered, almost inaudible: “I can’t be the person you want me to be.”

Zelda didn’t know what to say. She drew patterns on the wall with her finger. She drew circles, then an eye, and then stars. She drew the constellations.

“I—I’m not the person I used to be. The one you remember. I don’t remember who that was. What little knowledge I have – the little snapshots of memories – I don’t see myself in them. I see someone else. That’s not me.”

Stars, stars, stars. Zelda traced more stars. Every now and then, he finger would hit a bump on the surface of the wall. She would run her finger around it, studying its shape.

“You will mention who I was before the Calamity with the expectation that… that I’ll be the same. But I’m not. I think… I think that your memories shape who you are as a person. And I have none of that. I don’t have many memories. I don’t have anything to shape me and make me be the person I used to be. I talk too much. I’m immature. I make bad decisions. I’m not… stoic. I’m not heroic. I don’t even remember how to act… knightly. I’m not the person you want me to be.”

They had been lying back to back, but Zelda turned around.

“Link. Look at me.”

She propped herself up on an elbow. “ _Link.”_

He rolled over, facing the ceiling but still looking at her out of the corner of his eye. “Yes?”

“I don’t need you to be the person you used to be.”

He raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

“It’s not bad, you know. I used to have to _beg_ you to talk to me. It was frustrating and it hurt me greatly. I love hearing your voice, and it’s not _annoying._ I love hearing everything you have to say. And even though it worries me when you unnecessarily put yourself in danger, I love how silly and carefree you are. It’s not immature of you to be a bit of a goofball.” Zelda giggled. “I think you’re pretty funny sometimes and I actually adore it. And some of the pieces of you that still remain are the things that always made me feel a little weird. I know being a knight is something that feels new to you, but you don’t have to always be my knight. I want you to be my friend above all.”

She couldn’t help herself. She reached out and began to run her fingers through his hair. He made a soft, contended noise, and leaned into her touch.

“And everything is different for me, too.” Zelda continued. “It’s like the whole world is new to me. I have my memories, but it’s been so long, it’s like I’m starting everything all over again. We can start over together. And that’s something I want to do with the _new_ you, not the old you.” 

Link still seemed a little bit unconvinced. “Is that how you truly feel?” 

Zelda frowned, and put on her stern princessy voice that she was so used to putting on over a century ago. “You dare accuse your liege of lying?”

He gasped, and held a hand to his chest. “Your highness, I apologize. Would you like me to fall to the ground and lick your shoes?”

She gave him a little whack on the head. “Go to sleep.”

He laughed. She loved the sound of it. “Okay.”

Zelda slept well that night. No loneliness, no fear. She could face the darkness.

It was the best night’s sleep she’d had in over a century.

**Author's Note:**

> I know a lot of these things may be cliche or have been talked about in other botw stories but I wanted to have my own shot at it! I had this idea in my mind for about a week or so and kept zoning out in class thinking about it, so I wanted to get it out of my mind, at least so I could focus on my studies lol


End file.
